Thread
by Demoness99
Summary: Today we are told to compare. Compare and look for similarities and differences. SasuNaru(?)
1. Chapter 1

Today we are told to compare. Compare and look for similarities and differences. The girl next to me chose to compare a book to a container. Her conclusion was something to do with words and knowledge. Ridiculous, I snorted. The boy next to me compared his brother to his dog. It wasn't of my interest. Nothing is, really. Nothing except you.

What should I compare you to? A flower surrounded by bees? An unreachable beauty that everyone has yet to acknowledge its qualities.

Or perhaps a blue bear in the grip of a child with a distant look? The blue bear wants to be loved by the child but the she only knows of memories of a horrible time, and the bear is a reminder.

You could be compared to a pianist with chopped off fingers. Like the pianist longs to play the piano, you long to be known of, and like the chopped of fingers are an obstacle, the past is also one. The pianist is desperate, he wants to play so much he decides he'll play in heaven. He slits his wrists and is no more. You, however, keep fighting. You are as desperate as you are a fool, which makes you able to continue. As the pianist was haunted even in his dreams you instead visit heaven. A warm mother's embrace and a father's encouraging words.

You could be a fallen angel. An angel who was destined to a beautiful existence, but was allowed into the world at the wrong time. Innocent, but experienced. Loved, but hated. Pure, but dirtied. Your wings have been skinned and you are now unable to fly. Unable to escape.

If you were to be an angel I am a demon. A demon who will continue to seek power and revenge. While you are ignorant of the cruelties of the world, I seek them. I seek the cruelest; you. Who said that angels can't be cruel? They are cruel because they are unreachable to us, to everyone. As we are all born with humanity, some more than others, I shut mine out early while you had yours taken away. Still, there are people among us who are still searching for their humanity, even if it has been swallowed by their actions and choices. You have already accepted that yours is gone.

I sigh and turn slightly to look at you. You're only a few seats away from me, at least you are physically. Mentally, you exist in a completely different world than I. Your paper is blank, like mine, and your eyes are glazed over. Are you trying to shut out the chatter of our classmates? Or are you just tired the stupidity in the world?

Either way, for a moment out eyes connect. You soon avert your eyes and turn back to your paper. You write something down. A word. No, a name. My name. A question comes to my mind when you then try to hide it.

Are you thinking of me as much as I think of you? Similar questions fill my mind. They slide down to my mouth, but I block them. As I do, I cannot help but wonder what you'd answer. My imagination is only so wide I can imagine you smile. Nothing more, nothing less. However, that is unlikely. Just as I haven't smiled at you a single time, you haven't smiled at me.

In the end, the love between the angel and the demon is a thin thread. The thread can easily be cut off and only the one who did it will know of it. The other will continue live, oblivious to the other's feelings.

Perhaps the our thread has already been cut? If it has, I will never know. Even if it was by me. The least I can do is hope that I'll never feel the need to, though we both know that eventually one of us will have to cut it.


	2. Chapter 2

Feelings and thoughts can leave you as soon as they enter, and at the end of the day you will have forgotten everything about them. Almost. Some thoughts linger, same goes for some feelings. They linger, in my heart and in my mind, just like your smiling face.

Today you smiled at me, through your tears that is. Human tears are beautiful, but a ninja's tears are disgraceful. We who live only for the purpose of being a tool are not allowed to cry, not really. We're supposed to be strong, supposed to be inhuman. Tears are classified as human in this world. As something only weak people do, therefore, we are not allowed to cry. Especially not in front of another. Even so, you did cry today. As it was the first time I saw you cry, it is the first time I saw you smile. Weird, isn't it? I always thought you were unable to do either.

Perhaps I was right? Perhaps you are unable to cry? And I'm just imagining things? Or perhaps it was me who was smiling while crying?

Either way, I keep the image of those tears close to my heart. The same heart that began to pump faster when I saw you. Even though my face is never entirely emotionless, I can sometime be. The emotions that burn so strongly sometimes fade into nothingness. Like I saw you do. You faded into the background. For once, people were unable to see you. You, who always have flocks of girls and boys around you.

I wonder how many hearts you've broken? And how many hearts you will break?

I squat and place my finger on the ground. My shadow, the only place the sun doesn't reach, is dark. Almost as dark as you.

I remember that you were mumbling something about a thread as your tears rolled down those cheeks that deserve to be kissed until they can't feel anything anymore. The thread, I wonder, could it be what this is? This invisible thing I feel around my finger that connects me to you? When you go too far, I will be pulled along. But I don't mind. Even if you pull me to the deepest pits of hell, I will be glad. Because I will not be alone. May the devils dance around us, or the flames lick our skin, I will be glad.

My finger moves across the ground. I do not know what I'm drawing. It could be you. It could be me, or even the thread. Since my finger leaves no trace except for in my mind, I don't know what it draws, all I know is what I want it to be. I want it to be the road to my dreams. A road without obstacles. A straight, sunny road. One that you will walk along side me.

Oh, I see it now. It's nothing of those things I said. I instead wrote something. I wrote a name. And it belongs to you. A name what I hope one day will stand next to mine. If not someplace where people can see it, then in my mind.

Our names, they sound to different, yet, they sound good together. It's kind of like us, don't you think?

I also remember you said something about an angel. Who could that angel be? Someone you hold dear? Or someone that holds you dear? I guess I will never really know, because I could never ask. Even if our names were to stand beside each other, I simply couldn't.

Maybe I could get the wind to whisper it to me? If I asked nicely it might repeat what was said earlier today. Or perhaps I can ask the ground to write it out for me? The ground, which your teardrops touched. I wonder if those tears were for me. If they were, does that mean I will cry too?

Will I cry if you cut this so-called thread? Or will I be free? I ask this because I could never cut it myself. I don't want to. Instead, I might just follow you to hell.

Then neither us will have to cry.


End file.
